


Dating Mishaps

by Silverdart



Series: Drabbles of the Lost Light [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cleaning, Dating, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sarcasm, whrung - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverdart/pseuds/Silverdart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whirl treats Rung to a date, but of course not everything can go right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dating Mishaps

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for this drabble was 'adore'.

Though the forceful slap to the keypad of his office door sent a dull ringing into his audios, Rung couldn’t help but admit he would have preferred angry denials from his wayward patients over the silence that fell over the room. 

He sighed heavily, setting down his datapad and stylus lightly on the desk. He leaned back into his chair and upturned his helm to the ceiling, thin arm coming up to pinch his glasses’ frame and cast them carelessly alongside the datapad. He shuttered his optics and grimaced, servo shielding his optics from the light. A processor lag throbbed his helm, the stress was worse today than normal. 

Fort Max had explained how in the wake of Overlord’s rampage the nightmares had come back, and they sounded worse than ever. He’d yet to have another flashback, which Rung supposed was progress of a sort, but the larger mech refused to recharge in the dark, and was not yet ready to be put on the duty roster. This fact did not help his self-esteem at all, and Rung was beginning to find it difficult to console the poor mech. And Max wasn’t the only patient who was finding functioning difficult. 

Tensions on the ship overall were at an all-time high, more mechs than not staying in their quarters to avoid their new co-captain. Megatron himself was no easy case, locked up tighter than Brainstorm’s briefcase. For example, today Rung had carefully tried to delve into the warlord’s more personal relationships. He had been fine talking about his relationship with his officers Soundwave or Tarn, but the nanosecond Starscream’s name had been brought up Megatron has growled and stormed out of his office. 

Rung sighed and rolled his shoulders, repositioning his glasses then proceeded to organize and clean off his desk. He hesitated when he received an incoming ping, then smiled brightly when he read the sender. 

:Good afternoon Whirl, how has your day been?:

:Yo Eyebrows, how’s it hanging? Just bumped into Megs, he looked pretty fragged off. I mean, like, way more than usual. Not that I’m complaining, gives me an excuse to throw a punch, claim self-defence, know what I mean nerd?: 

Rung shook his helm and sighed, but didn’t lose his grin. Despite having recently released Whirl as a patient, he didn’t refute that the mech had a long way to go until he was deemed ‘socially acceptable’. He may never reach that stage, however with the increase in patients Rung saw on an ornly basis he felt confident that Whirl wouldn’t be as inclined to homicide as before. 

It also helped that he and Rung were together nearly every moment outside of their shifts. Rung had a feeling Ultra Magnus had pulled some strings to have their shifts line up almost perfectly. 

:Please tell me you did not actually start a brawl in the hallway Whirl. Please do.:

He chuckled at the burst of amusement sent through the link. 

:Nah doc, just messin’ with you. Besides, that’s on my to-do list for later. As I recall I have a certain date with a certain nerd down at Swerve’s in a few kliks. Excited?: 

:A date you say? With a nerd, hm? Whirl, I never thought you were interested in Perceptor in such a way, as charming a mech he is.: 

He could have laughed at the surprised silence on the other end of the line. Whirl had not been the only one to have opened up recently. Since they had begun seeing each other Rung had felt better about himself, worth something special to someone. He hadn’t felt that way since before the Functionalists, or really ever if he admitted it to himself. He’d never have expected a mech like Whirl would make him feel special, and for a long time he didn’t.

Whirl had been just another patient, and a violent and rude one at that. But over time, Rung began to understand the event behind his nervous twitches, why he hated feeling water on his rotors, why he felt so angry all the time. And he’d shared his own flaws with Whirl as well. Rather than be berated for them, Whirl has simply stated “it’s nice to know even you ain’t perfect, Eyebrows”. He’d seemed more relatable after that. 

:Was that a joke? I must be hearing things. Did scrawny Rung, just suggest that I would meet up and get it on with a mech that ain’t him? Ha! That’s really funny, now I think about it. Tell me another.: 

Rung quietly padded out of his office, switching off the lights behind him and keying his door locked. 

:Well I am pleased to inform you that I too have a date tonight, though my match seems to be more of a doing more than thinking kind of mech. That’s not to say he isn’t intelligent, oh no he is sharp as a rapier. He just has a very specific interpretation of the scientific method.: 

:Rung.:

:Yes Whirl?: 

:Jokes really aren’t your thing. You lost me halfway through.: 

Rung chuckled as he made his way through the hallways, nodding and smiling to mechs he passed. He caught sight of the bar’s neon sign and grinned as he entered the inviting room. He immediately made a beeline for his favorite booth, not quite tucked in the corner but well out of the way of the most rowdy of the crew. He made himself comfortable, ordering a small cube of bubbly midgrade as he waited for his partner. He smiled fondle as he spotted Whirl’s confided strut, humming when the copter made a show of looking around at the other mechs. Whirl made his way over to Rung’s booth and leaned on its surface. 

“Well, what a coincidence! You got a date here two Four-Optics? Where’s the special mech?” 

Rung faintly smirked. “I do believe he’s just arrived, why doesn’t he sit down and enjoy a cube, relax with me?” 

Whirl let loose a heaving sigh, but Rung wasn’t fooled as his optic curved in a grin. “Well, if you insist!” He plopped himself down next to Rung, snuggling close and slowly wrapping a claw around his waist. He was sure to be careful, gentle in his motions. Rung hummed in appreciation, showing his approval by curling closer to Whirl’s cockpit. 

Whirl ordered a medium sized cube of high-grade, pouring it carefully into his intake valve as he chatted animatedly about the latest gun he and Brainstorm had constructed. Rung couldn’t help but smile softly when Whirl dejectedly told him that despite it being the most ‘awesome’ thing ever created, it had been immediately confiscated and incinerated. It wasn’t long before both their cubes were drained, and Rung, having missed his morning energon after waking late from recharge, was happy to order a very small shot of high grade. 

He rested his helm in a servo and leaned on the table, beginning to feel slightly tired. He frowned and Whirl halted in his storytelling when an ominous creak was emitted from the table’s joints. Their optics locked for a moment before the table gave out. Rung fell forward with a yelp as the surface he was on fell out from under him. He would have fallen face-first on the floor if Whirl’s arm around his waist hadn’t tightened, but neither of them could prevent both cubes from going flying and splashing across both of their chassis’. 

The bar went quiet, countless optics staring in their direction. Slowly conversations rekindled, but there was a hush over the sound as if they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. Or they were just worried Whirl would blast the helm off the sorry fool who snorted a short laugh from the back corner of the room. 

Whirl’s optic was wide and burning, darting fleetingly between the energon seeping into Rung’s seams and the liquid rolling down his cockpit glass. Rung lifted a shaky servo to remove his glasses, frowning at the spatter streaking them. He looked up at Whirl’s helm, and unconsciously tightened his fingers around the helicopter’s arm. It was clear the mech was angry, though one never could tell who would be targeted by it. His free servo withdrew a cleaning cloth from one of his many compartments, and it wasn’t long before the cloth was dripping with fuel. 

Rung sighed, he’d barely made a dent in the mess. 

Swerve didn’t waste any time in rushing over, apologizing profusely. He was quickly scared off by a low mechanical growl from deep in Whirl’s chest. The copter stood from his seat, dragging Rung along by his side as he stormed from the bar. Mechs ducked out of their way as Whirl stomped down the hall towards the closest wash racks, rotors buzzing with the speed of their vibrating. Rung felt his faceplates heat up and he groaned into his servos as his date nearly kicked the wash racks’ door down, entering with all the anger of a thunderstorm.

“Alright, everyone OUT!” Whirl shouted, his claws clicking loudly. The few mechs who were mulling about in the showers jolted, rushing to turn off the cleanser, edge their way around the copter and his ‘prisoner’, and rush out the damaged door that refused to slide closed properly. 

Scanning the room for any stragglers and finding none, Rung let out an embarrassing squeak as he was plopped down in the nearest stall. He shivered, picking at the energon that can already begun flaking off. He gasped and jolted forward when freezing cleanser suddenly rained down on his back. He heard a grumbled “Sorry”, and didn’t fight the claws that manhandled him into various positions. 

Whirl took his time using cloths and brushed to dig out the gummed up liquid from his date’s seams and frame, muttering quiet obscenities to himself. He slowed and paused when a small servo rested lightly on his cockpit, looking down at a concerned Rung. 

“Whirl, are you alright?” Rung asked quietly. “I’m sure it was an accident, no harm done.” He assured. 

Whirl didn’t reply, but allowed Rung to help him with his own messy frame, reaching underneath his cockpit to wipe down the places Whirl struggled to get on his own. Rung’s optic ridges drew down, and he lifted a serco to cup Whirl’s helm, slowly raising the chin up to meet his gaze. His lip plates spread in a comforting smile. 

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Whirl, least of all yours. What’s wrong?”

Whirl’s vents blew out a torrent of air he had been holding in. “It was supposed to be some US time. Chill out, drink some good energon, have a little fun. It was SUPPOSED to be a good time. Ruined... by a fraggin’ table.” 

Rung’s felt his face heat up. Sometimes he was amazed at how far Whirl had come. He had expected Whirl to believe it had been a revenge prank, some victim of his trying to get even. He’d expected to have to spend the night explaining to Ultra Magnus that it was not a relapse, that Whirl could control himself, even though Rung might not fully believe that himself. 

This was not what he’d expected, at all.

“Well,” Rung started, “it doesn’t have to be ruined, the date is not over yet is it? I’m afraid I’d be greatly disappointed if it is.” 

Whirl froze again in his cleaning and looked carefully at Rung’s expression. “B-but… we didn’t finish our drink, you got drenched! There’s not exactly anywhere else on this pit damned ship to go…”

Rung let out a soft chuckle. “Whirl, we don’t have to go anywhere special for it to be a date. As long as it's just you and me, it doesn't matter to me what we’re doing. Within reason, of course.” He added.

Whirl couldn’t answer, surprise written in his body language as if the thought had never occurred to him before. 

Rung grinned widely. “How about we finish cleaning up here, then head back to my quarters and watch a holo-vid. No responsibility, no grandeur acts to impress, just you, me, and a nest of blankets. How does that sound?”

Whirl’s cables relaxed and his optic curved in his own unique smirk. “Sounds like a plan. Nerd.”


End file.
